


'Round Midnight

by Lenore



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Advent Calendar Drabble, Fluff, Holiday, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-25
Updated: 2006-11-25
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/80947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lenore/pseuds/Lenore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Advent 06 Day 2. New Years on Atlantis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Round Midnight

The first annual Atlantis New Year's Eve Party and Costume Ball was a roaring success by any measure. There was free-flowing champagne, courtesy of a recent visit by the _Daedalus_. One of the younger Marines had already lost his in a potted palm; it was never a party until someone puked. Chuck played DJ, mixing in pop favorites from the 80s with Britney and gangsta rap and recordings they'd made of indigenous Pegasus galaxy music, something for everyone, and the dance floor was a veritable tribute to peace, love and understanding. Athosians boogied with 'Lanteans, scientists got jiggy with soldiers, even Ronon set aside his usual contention that dancing was for girly-men for some down and dirty action with Kate Heightmeyer.

Costumes appeared to have exerted a weird gravity, people pairing off thematically. In a corner, a be-skirted Julius Caesar snuggled with a would-be Cleopatra in a bad wig and an excess of blue eye shadow. Two Hydrogen atoms circled around Oxygen on the dance floor, looking to share electrons.

Rodney drifted away from the buffet table, scratching at one pointy ear, wondering if he was allergic to the adhesive. Carson had declared it perfectly safe, but then what did Carson know? Rodney went on scratching and watching the festivities. All around him people seemed to have found someone, and here he was, alone again on New Year's, no one to kiss at midnight, story of his life.

He didn't even have Sheppard to hang out with. He'd stayed behind on the most recent planet they'd visited to "establish diplomatic relations." He was probably at that very moment rumpled and post-coital in the bed of the nubile young Chief Councilwoman.

"Hell of a party, huh, Spock?"

Rodney whirled around. "I thought you were—"

Sheppard waggled his eyebrows. "Living up to my namesake?" He was wearing a Starfleet uniform, his hair slicked back. "So what did I miss?"

Before Rodney could start in on the gossip, the countdown began, _Five, four, three, two, one_. Sheppard met Rodney's eye, mouth quirked up in a smile. "What do you say? For luck?"

Rodney licked his lips. "Yes. Well. Given that we live in a galaxy full of life-sucking space vampires, among other things out to kill us, that seems sensible."

Sheppard leaned close, breath against Rodney's cheek, and Rodney went for it before either of them could change his mind. Just like that, his mouth was against Sheppard's. He'd expected something light, friendly, a joke among comrades in arms, but Sheppard laid his hand against Rodney's cheek, and there was tongue and urgency, so much better than anything Rodney could have anticipated.

Rodney blinked when Sheppard finally let go. "We, uh— we get into _a lot_ of trouble, you know."

Sheppard smiled and took him by the hand. "True." There was a shadowy alcove, and he pressed Rodney back up against the wall. "I say we can use all the luck we can get."


End file.
